Ice in a Box
by Dyavol's Angel
Summary: Torturing seemed to corrupt America, if the Russian didn't know any better he'd say that Alfred was a sadist. Ivan didn't blame America, even the purest of souls became victims to rage, not that he'd meant to upset the American after all these years. UsUk. RusAme mostly.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for the favorites and reviews for Raw Addiction. I can try to make something like that again, but I have no idea where this story is going since I make this stuff up off top of my head.**

**I do not own Hetalia if I did Ivan would be mine.**

* * *

Russia was strong, powerful, and the biggest. So how had he gotten captured? Because he had thought the other nations were his friends. He had held on to his belief for so long and so tightly that he hadn't seen their intentions for him. Well, reality had smacked him very hard. He was alone, he had always been alone, and he would remain that way.

His cell was void, completely empty. Only a barred window let him know that the rest of the world had not slipped from his grasp. The other nations made sure he couldn't escape; his cell was made of titanium and they had shackled his wrist to the wall, forcing him to stand. He also knew that Germany and Prussia were on the other side of the door, guarding him.

The Russian closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

* * *

'Another lonely night' Ivan thought to himself, holding a half empty bottle of vodka. This was his fifth one. China hadn't left too long ago, with a promise to become one with him. Yao was supposed to get the marital papers, but Russia felt betrayed somehow. Maybe China had only used him for the sex. Russia drank the last bit of his vodka and threw the bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and collected where the rest of the bottles had been thrown.

Ivan crashed on his bed and pulled the cover over his head. He nuzzled his precious scarf and went to sleep.

Ivan groggily opened his eyes as he was pushed on the floor. China stood above him with a small frown on his face, what confused the Russian was America, England, France, Germany, and a few other nations were also in his room. Ivan gave them a childish smile, "Hello?" America pulled him up by his tank top and pushed him against the wall, "Cut the crap, we know what you did to China!"

"Da? Yao wanted to become one with Russia," Ivan now knew what China's intentions were; unfortunately no one would believe him. Russia reached for America's fist, but Germany held his wrist down, "I'm sorry Russia, but we have to show you that your ways are wrong."

China flinched under the Russian's glare; if Russia ever got free China would pay.

* * *

The moon's light shone through the single window, the air smelled of rain and Russia could feel the gloominess of his surroundings. He was in England after all. Russia looked down at his bare feet; he hoped someone would bring his shoes and his overcoat. Compared to the rest of his surroundings, Ivan looked like a ghost. But unlike a ghost he could not slip through objects.

The only option he had was to wait for the inevitable. Someone was going to be sent to torture him, to 'right' his ways. Just who would they send and how would they torture him.

The door crashing into the wall made the Russian look up. In walked the three Baltic States led by England. They were gagged and England pushed them against the floor like they were rag dolls. "It won't be long now," the Brit said with a smirk on his face. England slammed the door back in place, leaving the three Baltics shaking against the floor. So they would be forced to watch; Russia did not care. He had been tortured before and being tortured in front of mere servants would not make him feel any type of shame.

* * *

Russia felt his heart skip a beat. Of course they would send America to torture him, why wouldn't they. The Russian still had feelings for the American; he even watched over him to make sure he didn't do anything too stupid. As superpowers they had to keep other in check. America hadn't really talked to him since the Cold War, except when their bosses forced them together.

America had a hatred for the Russian and he could finally vent without Russia doing anything about it. He didn't see any harm in it, he was still being a hero; he was going to make Russia change for better. He could finally bring the Russian down by a few sizes. He didn't exactly like torture methods so America decided he would just knock the big man around a little.

Russia looked back down at his feet, he had waited a whole day just to find that his torturer would be his friend . . . enemy. America cuffed the Russian's chin, forcing his gaze away from the floor. Russia could see the Baltics paling behind America. Latvia was shaking the worse, possibly even peed his pants. Had they ever seen America serious before? Russia looked at the American, there was no trace of a smile and those ocean blue eyes were alive with rage. Without warning America back handed the Russian. Ivan kept calm, a hit like that wouldn't faze him. If Alfred kept that up, he'd think the American had gone soft on him.

Alfred was just warming up.

* * *

Alfred had become frustrated, "Why won't you scream?!" The Russian gazed at the American dully, it had been ten days and Ivan hadn't said a single word. There was nothing left to say. Italy brought him food, Germany and Prussia take him to relieve himself in the bathroom, and Switzerland would come to patch him up when America was done beating him. Sometimes England would come by to watch, like he got some type of joy seeing America beat the crap out the Russian. Alfred had beat Ivan with his own faucet pipe. Ivan wasn't wearing anything but boxers.

Even his scarf had been taken away; Ivan felt dead to the world. Had his own government even been looking for him? Torturing seemed to corrupt America, if the Russian didn't know any better he'd say that Alfred was a sadist. Ivan didn't blame America, even the purest of souls became victims to rage, not that he'd meant to upset the American after all these years.

Ivan could barely stand, not after America had hit his shins countless times with the pipe. Ivan managed a small smile and looked Alfred in the eye, "Screaming would satisfy you da?" Alfred looked taken aback; he hadn't expected Russia to say anything. "Ya ne budu krichat dlya vas," Ivan spit blood at the American's feet.

"Oh, so he still has some fight in him then," a voice came from the open door.

* * *

**da - yes**

**Ya ne budu krichat dlya vas - I will not scream for you**

**I'm sorry if I'm wrong, You may correct me. Language classes don't teach you everything**


	2. Chapter 2

England walked between Alfred and Russia and stared down at Ivan's broken form, "I think you should make the bloody wonker feel the way China felt." Russia peered up at the British man, he had forgotten about China. What had China gained from all of this? Ivan struggled to pull himself up by the arms; they were already sore with a number of bruises and scars. Even with all his efforts he couldn't stand; his legs were like jelly beneath him.

As if England hadn't had enough, he fished a key out of his pants pocket and unlocked the Russians shackles, watching him collapse on the ground. "England . . . wouldn't I be just as bad as him if I do that," America asked, not sure of his partner's decisions. "Of course not you stupid git, you're teaching him a lesson. China won't even come out of his house," England said.

Alfred nodded his understanding and began taking his own clothes off. Once he was completely nude, Alfred looked into the Russia's eyes for any form of regret; all he found was Russia's blank stare. Didn't he care that he'd hurt China at all? Alfred was again angry.

He ripped the Russian's boxers off, scratching the pale thighs along the way. Ivan was big, just like Alfred remembered. He'd been with Russia before, but that was when they were friends, maybe even potential lovers. Alfred wasn't the least bit hard, how was he supposed to get off on this. Alfred turned his gaze to England, maybe he could help. England stared, bored, "Get on with it, git."

America huffed and crawled up to Ivan's face, "Jerk it you commie bastard."

* * *

Japan, Canada, Ukraine, and even Lithuania were sitting in Alfred's living room. Toris sighed uncomfortably as Ukraine cried into his arms. He'd rather be with Feliks, but Ivan would kill him if he knew he wasn't taking care of his sisters. Of course no one informed Belarus of Ivan's whereabouts or what had even happened to him; that was like asking for a death sentence.

"Okay, we all know something is up with China and Russia, but does anyone know what's actually going on?" Matthew asked the only people that had bothered to acknowledge his existence. "Yes actually, that's why I came," Japan sighed, "Ivan did not rape Yao." Ukraine cried harder, "My baby bruder is being tortured for nothing!" Toris tried to calm her down by rubbing circles in her back, his shirt was noticeably wet.

"Can you please explain why China would lie like that?" Matthew asked again. "I don't know if China meant for it to come this far or what his actual intentions are, but he told me that he actually did ask Russia to become one," Japan offered.

"Why don't we tell Francis, I'm sure he will listen," Lithuania said. Matthew shook his head ashamed of his parents, "We can't tell France, he'll tell England and England will twist the words around in America's head."

At that moment America crashed through the front door and slammed it shoot. He took a moment to look around, "Mattie? Kiku?" His eyes narrowed, "Lithuania. Ukraine. What are you doing here?" Matthew looked at his brother's bloody clothes and heard Ukraine's cries worsen.

"Alfred, I know you think Russia raped Yao, but why are you guys pampering China like he's a king, you don't even like him," Matthew searched his brother's eyes to see if there was any hope of getting through to him, but all he found was that obsession that was the Cold War.

"Don't you think you should let Russia go, it's been four months," Canada tried again, "You aren't just hurting Ivan, you're hurting Russia as a nation." A flicker of light went through the American's eyes, but died as soon as it happened. "That communist bastard deserves this." Matthew huffed as he tried to reason with his stubborn brother, "Alfred you aren't being very heroic."

"I'm saving the world from Russia!" Alfred snapped, "All of you get the fuck out of my house!"

* * *

Germany looked uneasily at Prussia, "Bruder, do you think it is right to torture Russia like this?" Prussia regarded him for a minute and gave him his wicked laugh, "You almost had me fooled there Luddy."Gilbert gave him a nice pat on the back and Germany sighed, of course Prussia would want Russia locked away. Ludwig couldn't help but feel bad about betraying his friend again.

Ludwig naturally frowned when he heard a certain Brit coming down the hall. He'd never thought England could be so heartless, especially to a fellow nation. No one had even suspected the man of having a cell strong to lock up a nation, especially Russia. If England could break the Russian down, what else was he capable of?

* * *

England opened the Russian's cell before regarding the woman beside him, a blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks as his face was just mere centimeters away from her breasts. He cursed under his breath before switching his gaze back to the Russian, "You have five minutes with him." The busty woman nodded and walked into the cell as England closed the door behind her. His attention averted to Germany, "Show her the way out when time is up." The German nodded bitterly as England walked away.

Ukraine walked quietly over to her brother, already she wanted to cry. He looked so weak and broken, not like himself at all. To top it off, he was naked; she could make out individual scars all over his body and blood had ran down his legs and dried over time. This is what he'd been suffering through for four months. She sat on the floor in front of Ivan, "Vanya?" Her voice wavered.

She was so glad when he opened his violet eyes, but all she wanted to do was cry. "Cestra? You came to see Russia?" A smile appeared on his bloody face, "you brought a gift for me?" Katyusha looked down at the sunflower in her hands, she'd forgotten all about it. "My budemo vam zvidsy, ya obitsyayu," she said quietly as Prussia banged loudly on the door. "Times up woman!" Katyusha placed the sunflower on the ground as she got up and kissed her baby brother on the cheek, "Do pobachennya Vanya." She let the tears slip as she walked out the door.

Ivan glanced after his sister miserably, not even his precious sunflowers could cheer him up.

* * *

**Cestra - Sister**

**My budemo vam zvidsy, ya obitsyayu - We will get you out, I promise**

**Do pobachennya Vanya - Goodbye Vanya**

**If any of it is wrong blame Google :P**


	3. Chapter 3

Ivan felt like nothing; a husk of his old self. He could feel his country weakening, just like his own body. Had China wanted him dead? Did China still feel humiliated about signing treaties with him? Why only him, Russia had not been the only western country to make China sign. Even so, China had become his friend when they had become communist. Had his sister lied? Two more months had passed by since she'd visited him. And the poor sunflower she brought had been used to him. Its yellow petals had been painted red with his blood and each one plucked off. Alfred had even crushed it and left it there for him to look at; he didn't want his precious sunflowers to be tortured too.

The lights above dimmed; that meant England was close. America hadn't shown up yet, had he given up on making the Russian scream? He had almost achieved his goal the day Russia had finally escaped, but America had made sure to torture the Russian nice and good after that; almost four months ago. Ivan wanted very badly to escape, but something in his mind had made him slow down and let Alfred catch him.

England entered the room, but what surprised Ivan was the short man beside him. Had China come to rub this in his face? Ivan struggled against his restraints angrily, sure he was weak but he still had enough in him to make China regret messing with him. China took a step back, observing Ivan for the first time in six months. A smirk formed on the smaller man's lips, "I have something to show you Ivan."

* * *

Alfred stared out the small window of the airplane he and Mattie were taking to Canada. They zoomed by grayish-white clouds that reminded him of a certain man's hair. A frown formed on his lips, the Russian hadn't complained about his treatment; surprisingly he hadn't really said a word to Alfred. Usually the man would have at least cursed at him in his heavily accented voice. If he hadn't tried to escape, Alfred would've thought that the Russian enjoyed his torment. Honestly the only reason Alfred had even caught him is because the Russian had let him. Why? Did he realize he'd have nowhere to go? That they would catch him if he went back to his home in Russia?

Alfred doubted that was the reason. The only time Russia wouldn't look at him was when England was in the room. A tear began to form at the corner of the American's eyes. Ever since this whole thing had started his relationship with England had been going down the drain. It's not his fault he couldn't have sex with Arthur anymore. It's not his fault that whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Russia's broken body under him. Ivan would just look away with an uncomfortable on his face, but lately Alfred was starting to enjoy making Ivan uncomfortable. Alfred blinked the tears away before they could fall. It was the Russian's fault, if he hadn't of raped China, none of this would be happening. Arthur wouldn't even hug or kiss him anymore, hell, the only time he saw the Brit was when he was torturing Ivan. What was the point of this torture anyway, there was nothing to confess. Ivan was guilty.

A snowflake caught Alfred's attention and he looked out the window at the ground below. The plane was going to land soon; a certain building brought his gaze away from the snow covering the ground. They were landing in Russia in all its snowy beauty. Alfred snapped his neck around to Matthew so quickly the Canadian shrunk away. "I'm sorry Alfred; you just really need to see what's happening to Russia for yourself."

* * *

Out on the streets of Russia, Alfred looked around constantly looking at all the closed signs on the store doors and people breaking into grocery stores. Children were burning trash outside to keep warm. Winter was worse this year in Russia, it was almost a blizzard. Alfred struggled against the weather to keep his cheeks from being wind-burned. Cars lay haphazardly in the streets; some were even on fire. He'd even seen a few drug deals on the way. Alfred was a bit confused about China's picture being almost everywhere in the city. "Russia is losing money Alfred, only a few countries like me are still trading with him, even Yao, don't you think that's strange," Canada said. Alfred shrugged his shoulders; he didn't want to show that he had any feelings towards that rapist.

This was so unnerving for Alfred, he had never seen Ivan's country so disorganized, especially Moscow. This city was Ivan's heart and to see it so dysfunctional was upsetting. Gunshots were heard in the distance, Alfred was about to run that way but Canada held him back, "That's Russian soldiers trying to keep things under control." This unsettled Alfred even more.

Ivan's house seemed perfectly preserved in the blizzard. Nothing bad had happened to the house in its master's absence. Matthew pushed the door open and a letter fluttered to the ground. Alfred picked it up but stashed it in his coat pocket since he couldn't read the Cyrillic alphabet.

The house was almost unnaturally quiet; other than the wind pushing up against the walls it was completely silent. However, the deeper into the house they went a weird growling sound seemed to be nearing. The hairs on the back of Alfred's neck were standing on end; he stood a little closer to Canada to feel better. When Alfred opened Ivan's bedroom door a blur flashed across the room. Alfred and Matthew screamed as they fell back into the hallway; Alfred held his heart as a big furry cat clawed at his belly. Thank goodness it was only Russia's cat.

Alfred looked down at the fur ball, 'He must feel abandoned.' Alfred got a hold of himself and placed the cat on the floor. Matthew watched from the hall as Alfred made his way into the bedroom. Alfred walked into the trashed room; maybe Belarus was searching for her brother. Alfred shivered at the thought, 'I hope Toris is the one taking care of the cat.'

"Don't you get it Alfred, this isn't about Ivan this is about Russia, his people are suffering too," Matthew tried, "Be Russia's hero Alfred." Alfred took a seat on the bed and realized that he was wrong. Ivan deserves his freedom. America stood for freedom, he fought hard to have his own freedom; he did not have the right to take it from anyone else, especially a nation. How had he let this happen? Ivan needed a hero and he was going to save him. Just as he was about to say something, the window blew open and the growling was back. "General Winter is angry; we need to get out of here." Alfred was confused, but he listened to his brother.

* * *

For the first time in years, Russia felt his tear ducts working. His beautiful country had been reduced to nothing. Nothing but an eye sore and General Winter was taking his absence quite harshly. Ivan was not sad, no he was furious. China wanted to take over Russia and if Ivan couldn't get out soon then his boss might not even have a choice. He couldn't even stand looking at Yao at the moment. He wanted nothing more than to shove his pipe through the man's head.

China gave an all knowing chuckle and patted the Russian on the head, ignoring the rumbling coming from the man's throat. With that, China was gone. England stood before the Russian and waited for him to calm down, "Won't America be heartbroken when he can't torture his little pet anymore." Ivan did not care for America, for that matter neither did England. England left without another word. Why should he care about America, he had helped with Yao's plan even if he didn't know about it. The only thing Ivan could even think about was his country. His soldiers were attacking his people and his people were running around like savages.

Russia waited and waited for the sun to come up. There was no point in sleep or even eating; his country practically belonged to Yao. China would have to use his own energy if the Russian died and Ivan didn't care at the moment. Ivan decided he was waiting for his very slow and painful death.

Ivan looked up at the sound of the door opening. Who was coming this late? He saw bouncy blonde hair with a familiar face. Ivan sighed, it was only America; probably to get that days torture in. America walked over to the Russian and fell to his knees. Ivan watched the American warily, surprised at his actions. Alfred wrapped his arms around the Russian's neck, "I'm so sorry. I went to Russia, I saw it all," Alfred hugged his neck. So China was telling the truth. Ivan had wished China had been lying, that all the pictures were fake. Why did America care?

"Get out of here Amerika," Ivan wanted nothing to do with him. Alfred unlocked the shackles and caught the Russian as he fell, "No, I'm going to get you out of here." Russia was sure that England would not just let him walk out of there, plus he was completely naked. "How?" Russia looked at America suspiciously. If this is what his sister had meant then this was going to fail.

For once Alfred took a real good look at the Russian. He didn't look like the most dangerous and beautiful country that Alfred remembered; Russia had become a shell of his old self. He was bloody, covered in healing scars, sporting bags under his eyes, his hair had grown to his shoulders, and he had clearly lost muscle tone. Alfred did not like what he saw but he had done this to Russia. Alfred looked deep into those violet eyes and his heart constricted. He did not like the feeling he was getting.

A knock interrupted Alfred's thoughts and the door opened to reveal Germany holding a pair of clothes and boots, "Please hurry, Gilbert will be back any minute."Germany placed the clothes on the floor and shut the door behind him. America brought the clothes to the Russian, "Mattie and I borrowed a car and then we're riding a plane back to America. Mattie apparently had this whole thing planned out."

Alfred watched Russia struggle with the clothing, but he let him because Russia would never accept that kind of help from him, especially him. The clothes were a little small for the man, but they would have to do. "Here, you'll need this," Alfred gave his coat to the Russian. Alfred could manage the cold till they got to where they needed to go. The only problem now was Ivan couldn't walk. Alfred sighed; this was his fault after all, so he scooped Ivan up bridal style and knocked on the door with his foot. Ludwig opened the door and closed it behind them. Prussia's voice could be heard further down the hall.

Alfred's heart skipped a beat as he panicked. "Don't worry, there's another way out," Germany whispered. Ivan didn't look like he cared either way, he did not like the fact that he had been reduced so low that he had to be carried. Alfred followed the German down a hall he'd never seen before and took a series of turns until they reached a door leading to the outside. Germany bid them farewell and went back inside.

Canada was waiting outside the car, "Guys we have a situation."

* * *

**Feel free to ask any questions :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Russia will be fine I promise**

* * *

Arthur groggily opened his eyes as someone banged on his door; he turned over to ignore them. It was probably just America. The person did not go away, in fact the banging grew louder and louder until he thought the door would break down. He turned back over and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Three o' clock A.M. it read. "Who in their right mind would be up at this hour," he asked himself. Just as he made a move to get up the banging stopped. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and tossed the cover over his head as he lay back down.

Moments later he screamed as a tiny figure pounced on him. He tried his best to toss them of, but the person was not letting up. Their body pushed down on his chest. "Tell me where Ivan is or I will kill you," they threatened. Arthur's eyes widened in horror, "B-Belarus!" He nearly fainted when she snatched the cover from over him and slammed a knife into the mattress beside his head. "Show me where he is, Now!"

"I don't know what you are talking about," he shook. Natalya took another knife out and held it just above his face. "Okay, I'll show you," Arthur did not want to die even if he would come right back; death was a horrible feeling.

"And here he is," England opened the door to Russia's cell only to find it completely empty. He slammed the door closed quickly and hissed, "Germany," he looked at Ludwig and Gilbert both, "Where is Russia?" Prussia paled, "He was just fucking there, the awesome me swears!" Germany sighed as he looked at the short man, "Someone must have come when we went on break." "Is something wrong England," Belarus said sweetly.

England whimpered, "Russia is not here." She looked at him intently, "England," she smiled. He screamed loud and clear as Belarus slammed the cell open and threw him in there; she closed the door behind her and left the two brothers in the hallway. "Mein gott," Prussia whispered, "We should go before she comes back."

* * *

Ivan stared out the window halfheartedly; he hadn't missed the snow in the time that he'd been locked away. The wintry spirit was going to make his wrath known to the other nations if he didn't go home; General Winter didn't have to wait much longer; he would be home soon. For now he just had to worry about finding a place to stay before the car gave out on them. To top it off America's loud obnoxious voice was giving him a headache. Oh why did the flight have to get cancelled?!

A long hour later, they found a hotel that would accept them and they settled in for the night . . . morning.

Later during the afternoon Ivan open his eyes to see a pair of ocean blues staring at him; Ivan pushed the American off the bed. He had to admit that was the best sleep he'd had in months, but waking up to Alfred was not what he wanted to see. If it had been a few months ago, Ivan would have welcomed him with open arms, but those feelings had been crushed. "That hurt you jerk," Alfred whined. Russia regarded him for a minute; Alfred had the nerve to whine to him of all people. "You should have stayed in bed with . . . who is that?"

Alfred turned around, "Oh that's just Mattie. He's like a ninja sometimes I swear." Russia turned his back on Alfred and decided he should test his legs out, so he placed his feet on the scratchy carpet. They were still sore, but he could manage so he walked to the bathroom to take a much needed shower.

When he came out the two brothers were staring at him; he looked almost good as new, except for some minor cuts and bruises. He'd even cut his hair back to his preferred length; with what, no one will ever know. His violet eyes looked like they had a little life in them again. "What? Is there something on my face," he asked the two pairs of eyes. "No, nothing," they both stammered and Matthew rushed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Ivan glared at Alfred, "What is going on?" Alfred let a sigh escape his lips and rubbed a hand through his messy hair, "Japan got a private flight set up for us, but England wants to know where you've escaped to and requested that I come to his house immediately." Russia nodded as he took this in and Alfred handed him a letter. "I forgot to give this to you; I found it at your house."

Ivan looked down at the letter, recognizing his boss's cursive. Once he was done reading he glared back up at Alfred. He had five months before his boss would be forced to sign the contract with China; he could not allow that to happen. "Amerika, when this is over I never want to see your face again."

* * *

Alfred had been at a loss for words while driving down the road. Never had just a few hateful words hurt him so deeply; usually he would be able to come up with a retort, but Ivan had left him speechless. Ivan had a reason to hate him though; he had tortured the man, he had even started enjoying forcing himself on the Russian. Before he knew it he had parked the car in England's driveway and was knocking on the door. Maybe Iggy could make him feel better.

The short Englishman opened the door just a peek with a scowl on his face, "You're late." Alfred was a little taken aback, "Iggy there's snow everywhere." "Don't call me that you git, you don't have any excuses," Arthur opened the door wider for America to see the rest of his body. Alfred sucked in a breath of air, "Artie what happened? You look like you were mauled by a grizzly bear!" Arthur had several cuts across his face, abdomen, and other limbs; there were even some rather large bite marks Alfred could see where England's clothes were torn. Although Alfred was truly concerned, Arthur disregarded it and pulled the American inside before locking the door back.

"This is what you'll look like if you don't find Russia," he threatened. Alfred took a step away, "You don't mean that, you wouldn't hurt me." England whispered harshly, "I'll show you just how much I mean it."

* * *

Alfred touched his split lip and bruised cheek and bleeding eyebrow as he walked into the hotel; to say he was surprised was an understatement. He'd known Arthur for slapping, but punching was a whole different. Alfred shook his head, no, this was Arthur; he was just letting out excess anger, right? Alfred opened the room door he'd been staying in, "Guy let's get out of here." He ignore his brother and Ivan's surprised looks and turned around to go back to the car.

* * *

**England had it coming right?**

**You think Belarus would have did more if she'd actually seen Ivan?**


	5. Chapter 5

**School starts next week TT_TT I can see the drama already.**

* * *

Now it was just Alfred and Ivan; Matthew had gone back to Canada which Ivan thought was unintelligent. Leaving Russia and America alone together was perilous; although, Alfred had been a bit spacey. It had been a whole month since he'd been free and Alfred still had to go to England everyday which was a complete waste, but each time he returned home with more bruises. Ivan never asked about them because he didn't care and Alfred would deny everything Ivan said.

Maybe Ivan should care more; Alfred had been nice to him. He'd brought him his precious scarf, his favored pipe, brought him more clothes, and was even helping him get his strength back up. Ivan watched Alfred as he limped up the stairs; all that was visible was a black eye, but who knew what was waiting under those clothes. Ivan followed behind Alfred quietly and stopped in front of the closed bedroom door. He grabbed the doorknob and pushed it gently so the door wouldn't make a sound; Alfred had stripped down to his boxers and was staring at all the blue, purple, and yellow bruises.

Ivan walked in and closed the door behind him, observing Alfred's body. Is this how England treated his former colony? England was punishing America because Ivan had disappeared? "Stop going to England," Ivan said firmly. Alfred spun around, startled, "Russia what are you doing here," he yelled angrily. Ivan sighed through his nose and walked directly in front of Alfred, "Stop going to England," he repeated.

"You don't understand," Alfred turned away.

"I understand enough," Ivan grabbed America from behind. Alfred yelped and desperately tried to escape from Russia, but he realized it was only a hug. He relaxed a little; Russia was hugging him? Was this a trick?

"This isn't about your relationship with England," Ivan whispered into his ear, "This is about your people's freedom. England wants to control you Amerika."

"That isn't true! England wouldn't hurt me like that, he loves me," Alfred tried to get away again, but Ivan's grip only tightened.

"If he loves you so much _Amerika, _then why does he cheat on you with France. Everyone except _you _knows it;" he whispered harshly, "England wants to keep you as his little pet."

Alfred stiffened, "I'll prove you wrong." Ivan let go, regarding Alfred for a moment then shaking his head and dissipating any thoughts he'd been thinking. "Farewell Amerika."

After Russia had left his room, Alfred threw his clothes back on eagerly; now his wounds didn't matter, he would prove that Arthur loved him. Alfred grabbed his bomber jacket that he had tossed and ran downstairs, expecting to see Ivan on the couch. No one was there, so he searched the rest of the house, but Ivan was gone. Alfred was slightly disappointed, but he hoped Russia hadn't gone anywhere too far. He made his way out the door and to the airport.

* * *

America knocked at the door of his lover confident that this would go well, but he was getting agitated at England's slow pace to the door. He knocked harder, "England! I know you're in there!" The door opened just a few seconds later and Arthur glared him; he had no reason to back seeing as he'd just left a few hours ago. Alfred frowned at the bottle in Arthur's hand, "You're drunk."

"I am not," his speech slurred, "Why are you here?"

"Do you love me Arthur," he said hopefully.

"Of course you stupid git, don't ask stupid questions."

Alfred frowned at the insults, but he was drunk, it was to be expected, "Russia said you were cheating on me with France," he said not realizing his tongue had slipped. A bottle of half empty scotch crashed against the side of his head. Alfred fell to his knees, holding his bleeding head and trying to focus his senses. He barely heard Arthur over the ringing in his ears.

"You knew where he was the whole bloody time you little piece of shit," Arthur pulled America into his house and slammed the door.

* * *

Yao fidgeted with his finger's as he paced around the house; he had never thought Ivan would actually escape. England's cell had been so secure, but obviously some countries were traitors, he just needed to figure out who had done it. He stopped pacing when he entered a certain room and panda was sitting in the corner. He threw himself into the panda's open arms and began to cry, "Oh panda! I think I'm in trouble. Russia is going to kill me I just know it! I should have never tried taking over."

"You're right," China sat up, surprised to hear the voice right as a metal pipe went through his abdomen, "I forgive you," Ivan said from behind.

Ivan smiled to himself; he was about to teach a very special person not to fuck with Russians, specifically him. China screamed as Ivan twisted the pipe and began dragging him out of the house by his abdomen; the panda watched from his corner horrified, splattered with his master's blood.

"I'd hate to ruin your house with blood stains," Ivan purred, "Ne krichite. Eto ili voyny." China stopped his screaming immediately; understanding the threat and Ivan enjoyed seeing the look on Yao's face as he snatched the pipe out of his body.

* * *

Alfred now knew why it had taken England so long to answer the door; he wished he'd listened to Russia. Silent tears trailed down his cheeks and neck, soaking his chest as a pool collected there. He wanted to scream so loud, but it was already hard to breathe because of his crying and England had placed duct tape over his mouth. England had placed him against the wall with his hands duct taped together in front of him. Alfred had to watch Francis and Arthur 'make love' right in front of his very eyes.

He wished he could look away, he wished he could close his eyes, sadly he couldn't. His heart had never felt like it would burst right out of his chest. Each beat was so painful and his head was throbbing. More tears fell as Arthur called out Francis's name; how had he not noticed this going on? How long had they been together? Had Alfred always been this blind?

An hour later America set free; sitting numbly on England's steps. He'd wanted an answer and he'd gotten one.

* * *

**Ne krichite. Eto ili voyny. - Do not scream. It is this or war.**

**I'm rushing the story aren't I? And there isn't much RusAme going on yet, you just have to wait a little longer.**

**Making Arthur that way seems very unnatural *sigh* I'm sorry.**


	6. Chapter 6

Ivan strided down the hallway happily as he gripped Yao's shoulder tightly; this would be the first conference he'd been to in months. Yao did his best keeping up with Ivan, even though he had a very bad limp. Through the double doors they went and the other countries froze; Canada and Germany looked happy to see Ivan recovered, but slightly scared. Everyone else was freaking out and Italy was already waving his white flags.

"None of you will ever try to hurt me again, right," he tried to smile, "I will annihilate your pathetic excuse of a country and I will enjoy each of your dirty little faces as you become one with me." Italy dropped his flags and cried under the table as everyone else felt their heart skip a beat.

Russia pushed China into his seat, "All of you _will _start trading with me again or you _will_ meet the same fate as China." Everyone looked at Yao and shuddered; his condition was indescribable and he had taken a lot of damage considering he hadn't healed. Russia took his seat at the table and glared at them intently as he explained what he wanted and what he would do to them if they didn't comply; his malice was mainly toward China and England, but now he was done talking and he noticed something odd. Other than breathing, it was absolutely quiet; Russia looked around the room. America was not there.

Russia looked towards the English nation; noticing nothing different he decided to hold his question, assuming America was sick. Ivan did feel a little bad for disappearing on Alfred; he could have warned him, especially since the other probably had a broken heart.

Since there was usually a conference every two weeks Ivan waited and waited. Weeks passed, then months passed and Ivan grew impatient.

This last meeting had been the worst for him; he'd stayed up all night waiting to see the oblivious nation. This was the sixth meeting he'd been to, so three months had passed; no one had seen America. Russia tapped his foot anxiously; time was going by too slow; all to ready to go he stood and clenched the table. Germany stopped speaking to look at him, "Is there something wrong Russia?"

"Where is Amerika," he said calmly, trying to keep his composure. Canada looked over sadly because Alfred hadn't answered any of his phone calls, not that anyone would ask for his opinions. Arthur snorted through his nose, "Stay away from Alfred you bloody wanker."

Russia scowled at the vulgar term, "That's not language a gentleman should use Arthur."

"Alfred is mine." England was really irking Ivan's nerves.

"I am not claiming Amerika, I just want to know where my friend is," Ivan's fingers started digging into the table.

"You're friend? Ha! The man nearly beat you to death," England laughed. Ivan began reaching for his pipe. He wanted to be happy; he wanted to know America was okay; he wanted to smash England's face in for hurting his comrade.

This wasn't a game; America and Russia were supposed to keep each other on their toes so they could keep the rest of the world running. Even if Alfred was annoying sometimes, Russia actually cared for him deeply. Alfred had beaten him, but they were on England's orders and little America would do anything for his lover.

Sensing the hostility the others were becoming very antsy; they did not want to be impaled. "Please excuse anything he says," France interjected nervously, "I'm sure Amerique is fine."

"Don't intervene frog; It's your fault America is ignoring his duties as a country." France looked after Arthur guiltily as the English nation left the conference.

* * *

America is not fine; he huddled against the wall with a mirror across from him, staring at the few bruises that still remained. There was one bruise he couldn't see and that was the one that hurt the most; he was sure his heart was bleeding.

He'd become paler sitting inside all day; he'd ignored everyone's calls and even kept his door locked all the time to keep unexpected visitors away. He just wanted to be alone, was that too much to ask?

He didn't like looking in the mirror, but if he didn't have it he'd go crazy. His eyes were always blood shot and his face stained from crying; his messy hair stood on end. There was no need to care for himself; he wasn't impressing anyone, in fact, no one cared about him. He continued to look at the person in the mirror, that person was not him; he didn't like how this person stared back at him or the way they seemed to know him. He was just about to throw an old shoe at the mirror when someone knocked on the front door.

He froze; no one needed to see him, they would just betray him like the others. He had all that he'd need in his house. His thoughts were interrupted as something crashed downstairs and a moment later Russia stood in his bedroom. Alfred scrambled away, "Get away from me."

"Amerika?" Russia stared at him curiously, "Who did this to you?"

"You did this to me," Alfred scrunched up his nose and turned his back to Ivan.

Russia sighed, "Silly little Amerika, I told you to stay away from England. I had no reason to lie." He picked Alfred up by the waist and began carrying him out the room despite how he smelled. Alfred banged on his chest, "Put me down you jerk." Ivan looked down at Alfred's sunny hair as he continued to bang on his chest.

Alfred didn't want to deal with Russia; he wouldn't even be in this situation if it weren't for Russia. His hands started to ache and his eyes started to tear up again, "You hate me, why are you even here. You never wanted to me my face again." Ivan sighed again as he sat Alfred back down and crouched in front of him. "Alfred," he said softly, "I was angry because you helped torment me. I forgive you."

". . . Why?"

"Because you helped me get stronger and my country is safe from collapsing now."

Alfred placed his hands over his face, "Everyone hates America. I'm the villain."

Ivan did not like this side of Alfred, in fact he'd never seen Alfred crying over himself; he felt he should look away, but Alfred needed help. Russia placed his arms around Alfred and began singing an old lullaby his sister used to sing to him, while rubbing Alfred's back. Alfred stopped his crying and listened to the Russian nation even though he couldn't understand a word; it made him want to close his eyes and sleep.

"You're just different Alfred and you thought you were doing the right thing," Russia said when he was done singing.

Alfred was now feeling very self conscious about his self, "I stink, don't I?" Ivan only nodded, not wanting to say anything too harsh and hurting Alfred's feelings.

* * *

Alfred was clean, but he didn't feel better about himself. He wasn't all too sure he could trust Russia; Russia could hide anything with that face. The man had kicked down his door just to break into his house. Alfred brushed a hand through his wet hair as he looked down at his feet; he hadn't wanted anyone to see him like that and worse, it was Russia. He could feel himself shaking; Ivan would tell everyone about this.

He felt a tear at the corner of his eye; he tried to blink it away before Russia could see, but he failed. "Alfred? Are you okay," Ivan asked as he walked into Alfred's line of sight.

"Just leave me alone Russia."

"Alone? I'm not going anywhere; in fact I will be living here until you pull yourself together." Alfred almost fell off the couch, "I'm fine." Was Russia insane? Wait, scratch that; Russia was insane.

"Don't lie to me Amerika," Ivan pulled Alfred off the couch, "I will make you better."

* * *

**I'm getting to it I promise**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok you guys I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever. AP classes suck and anime is fabulous. I've watched Sword Art Online and Black Butler. You guys! Naruto is almost over. NOOO!**

**I completed rushed this because I was feeling bad about not updating.**

* * *

Alfred smiled at the violet eyed Russian man sitting next to him. He didn't know why he felt so warm with this man, this man he was supposed to hate. Ivan's index finger trailed over the American's pink lips and not even a second later he pulled Alfred's chin closer and melded their lips together. Alfred closed his ocean blue eyes in bliss, he didn't want this to end, and he wanted to feel those soft, pale, Russian lips against his forever.

He'd never felt this before, not even with Arthur and he didn't know exactly how to react to this. He felt a familiar sensation in his lower region but it was different this time. Ivan felt this change in Alfred and pulled away, a triumphant smile adorned his face; he what Alfred wanted, what they both wanted. Ivan looked into those begging blue eyes and he began stripping Alfred of his clothing. A gasp of breath escaped from Alfred's soft lips as Ivan's fingers left tiny sensations spreading quickly over his skin and Alfred felt his arms surround the Russian's neck as his body arched. He felt free as his trousers were pulled away, a light blush spread across his cheeks.

Did he want Russia to see him this way? Did he want Ivan to see his inner weaknesses, feelings, his raw emotions, his very core? Does Ivan really want this? Or was this revenge? Looking into the Russian's violet eyes, he suddenly felt a pain soar through his chest.

He could see them; green eyes glaring back at him, ripping his soul apart. No! Alfred scrambled away and shrunk out blindly. Before he could hit anything his wrist were caught and Alfred hesitated to open his eyes again.

* * *

Alfred felt startled as he was being shaken, his eyes snapped open to see Ivan looking down at him concerned. What scared him the most, Ivan was holding him in his arms. Alfred jumped out of the man's pale arms and hugged himself, it had been a dream. A sigh of relief escaped his chapped lips, it was all a dream; but it had felt so right.

"You were screaming and fighting in your sleep Alfred."

"It was just a bad dream," he didn't want to say anymore.

"You're lying."

Alfred looked away from Ivan's face and then he realized . . . they were both naked.

Alfred fell backwards off the bed, screaming and arms flailing about. Ivan looked over the side of the bed to see Alfred lying haphazardly and a sweet smile spread across his face, "I'd say you were having good dreams, your body is telling me you're happy." Alfred's body blushed rosy colors as he realized he had a complete hard on in all his naked glory; he quickly covered himself.

"Why the fuck are you naked in my bed!"

A small chuckle escaped the Russian, "Relax Alfred-

"Why do you keep calling me Alfred like we're the best of friends," Alfred glared.

Ivan frowned, "I came to comfort you Amerika, that's what I did. We drank together and we cuddled, nothing more."

Alfred felt like he had somehow been violated and he made a mental note to never drank alcohol around Russia again. He didn't that nothing happened, they were both naked; he also knew Russia was probably sober through the whole thing. Then he wondered what if England saw him like this? A burning sensation started at the corner of his eyes.

Violet eyes narrowed as Ivan saw tears making their way out of the blonde's eyes. He didn't like this look on Alfred, it was so unnatural.

Alfred wanted to feel warmth like in his dream, warmth that made his heart want to combust with joy, but Russia couldn't give him that. It had to be England. Suddenly Alfred felt a very hard body pressing into the back of him; pale arms wrapped around his chest and pulled his chin up so he was staring into violet eyes, a shiver ran up his spine. Warm breath tickled his ear, "I know how to make England jealous."

* * *

Arthur sat at the head of the conference table tapping his fingers impatiently waiting for the conference to start. He was tired of America's shenanigans or whatever he'd been doing lately, but now Russia was late too. This could either be very good or very bad; Ivan would never be late for a meeting if it were up to him. It had already been an hour and if they didn't get started soon they would be there all day. So England stood, ready to get this over with, but when the conference room doors slammed open he gripped the table out of pure anger. That fucking Russian dog . . .

Arthur observed the late pair as they walked in. Everyone else's attention immediately went to the intertwined hands shared between the two. Not only were they holding hands, but they were smiling; Arthur wanted to spit at the Russian's feet. He had specifically told the dog to stay away from America.

A creeping feeling made its way into the Englishman's mind, planted itself and coiled around his brain. He could not allow those two to be together, America was his alone and he would have him.

* * *

Ivan didn't exactly like being showy, but he did like being able to touch America even if it had taken a lot of coaxing. Ivan realized just how good of an actor Alfred actually was; now that they were in front of everyone Alfred had become his normal obnoxious self. His plan was working well, he could tell by the narrowed green eyes glaring at him, the fingers digging into the wooden table and the foot tapping out of irritation. America noticed this as well and smiled up at the Russian; he kissed Ivan on the cheek just to strike England where it hurt, then they began making their way to their seats. They didn't seem to notice the tension they'd created at all.

Just as Alfred was about to take his seat England decided to speak, "America, can we speak, outside?" Arthur's anger was audible through his clenched teeth. Alfred regarded Russia for a moment, but he didn't find anything decipherable there so he nodded at the Englishman. Ivan watched as they both walked out the conference room uneasily, he didn't trust Arthur alone with Alfred.

* * *

As soon as the door closed behind them Arthur gripped Alfred's hand and began dragging him away. He dragged the American all the way to the bathroom and locked the door behind them.

"Arthur? What are you doing?"

Alfred felt his heart palpitate as Arthur pressed him against the wall by his neck and placed a leg between Alfred's. "You're filthy you bloody git, how many times do I have to tell you to clean yourself," Arthur let go of Alfred's neck only to slap him. America's whole head went to one side as the sound echoed off the walls. Alfred's eyes stung as tears instant appeared, he didn't know what to think and he wasn't going to fight back, not England.

"You need to be cleansed," England said as he began taking Alfred's clothes off, "Don't ever let that bastard touch you again." First the shirt came off, then the shoes, socks and pants, and lastly the boxers; Arthur pushed Alfred on the floor. He ripped the soap cartridge from the wall and Alfred began to whimper. "Please England . . . I love him." Arthur stopped to regard Alfred for a moment, "Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say you don't want to be with me?" Alfred looked away, he couldn't say anything and so England bent down and forcibly placed soap in his mouth.

* * *

Ivan's fingers were fidgeting; America and England had been gone for quite a while for simple communication. A hand reached across the table and grabbed his hand, which was a brave thing for anyone to do, it had to be important. He looked into Francis's eyes, "I think you should get Amerique, Angleterre . . .stable." Ivan didn't need any further prodding, he rushed out the door and pushed open every door that he passed until he came to the bathroom; it was strange that the bathroom would be locked since there are multiple stalls. He took out his pick axe and began striking the door until a decent hole was made. He placed the pick axe back in his pocket and stuck his hand in the hole to unlock it from the inside.

Inside, England had America pinned to the floor, scrubbing his skin raw with water, soap, and paper towels; Alfred was noticeably red and holding back his pain. Ivan wrapped his arms around England and yanked him off.

"Put me down you filthy wanker!"

"Very well," Ivan threw Arthur to the other side of the room and went to Alfred, "Can you move?" Alfred didn't respond to him, only stared off at something that wasn't there.

Fuck.

* * *

**This story is almost done, but it'll be ok because I've been working on another story and it'll actually be thought out so it should be better than this one.**


	8. Chapter 8

England dusted himself off as he got up off the cold hard floor and stared at Russia embracing his America. Alfred held on to the Russian like he was his savior and laid his head against the man's chest. Arthur's heart felt like it was shattering and breaking off, piece by piece; a single tear glided down his cheek as he slowly made his way from the bathroom.

Ivan sighed, "I'm taking you home."

* * *

At home, Alfred was back to his moping; he'd made Arthur jealous like he wanted, but he'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't going to work out. Arthur was always going to think he was unclean, he'd always remember the way Alfred was when Russia was locked away, but Alfred had simply been following his lover's orders.

Now, Alfred was lying on his bed wrapped in his plush cover. Clenching the sheets with his fist, his deep ocean blue eyes flowed with regret and sadness; with a deep shaky breath he decided he was done pursuing England. Arthur could fuck Francis all he wanted; as he thought about it his heart felt as if it had sank into his stomach. He couldn't just forget the last 20 years of his relationship with Arthur, but that's what made it hurt so much; how long had Arthur been cheating? Alfred buried his face in the sheets as snot began running out of his nose; it was all so unfair.

Outside of the bedroom door Alfred heard the quiet steps of Russia, a second later three loud knocks echoed in the room and muffled words came from the other side. "Alfred?" Alfred sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes and nose, he knew they were red; he really didn't want Russia watching him, but he needed the company at the moment. Quietly Alfred said, "Come in." Ivan opened the door cautiously and made his way over to the bed; sitting Ivan took Alfred's hand and held it in his own.

"You shouldn't cry over England Alfred," he took his other hand and wiped at the continuous tears, "You're too beautiful for that." Alfred turned his face away, hiding his blush from Russia.

"You're only being nice to me because I'm a wreck."

"I don't comfort anyone America, you know that. I really care about you Alfred," Ivan pulled Alfred into his chest; "I don't like it when you're sad; you don't know how much I've restrained myself from hurting that British bastard just because you like him," Alfred looked into Ivan's violet eyes and his stomach began to tingle with a warmth he'd never really felt before. He knew Ivan didn't have a reason to lie and not for the first time he was going to act on impulse. Alfred reached both of his hands behind the Russian's head and smashed their lips together; he found his fingers tangling in the ashen hair and leaving Ivan in utter shock.

"Alfred," Ivan was breathless.

Alfred placed one of his index fingers over Ivan's lips, "This isn't a trick? You aren't going to-

Ivan removed Alfred's finger and kissed him quick and softly, "I don't want war Alfred, I want love. You have no idea how much it hurt me to start a war with you . . . I've been changing for you; I'm not a communist anymore. I just want you to notice me." Alfred looked into those eyes again and saw sorrow, love, and something else that lit a flame inside him.

Alfred smiled, "I want this."

* * *

Arthur was in a bitter rage; he was heartbroken, shattered, and livid. He threw and tripped over furniture blindly as angry tears ran down his cheeks.

America had been his; he just couldn't believe America would rather be with Russia. They'd been together for 20 years now and Alfred hadn't said a word to the Russian all that time, so why now? No matter what, Arthur was going to get Alfred back even if he had to do something drastic. Arthur placed his hand over his heart, feeling the beating organ in his chest.

For a moment he paused in his bitter rage, it could have been a trick. Yes, it had to be a trick; Arthur went down into his basement, leaving the rest of his house behind in a drunken mess. There was just no way his little Alfie would leave him for Ivan. He needed an answer that was going to satisfy him right now, so he was going to perform a little spell that wouldn't bother anyone; Alfred must already be irritated with him.

Arthur sat in the middle of his red pentagram with a black bowl of cool water sitting in front of him, awaiting its use. A lock of America's blonde hair was wrapped around his thin index finger to be used as a trace. Placing his hand on the bowl, he closed his eyes and began chanting in the dead language known as Latin. As he finished, steam rose from the water's black surface; when it cleared the black surface turned into a scene. A scene that made him want to claw his eyes out, this was the last thing he'd been expecting; he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Arthur's emerald eyes darkened as he watched everything from Alfred's point of view. That bastard was touching him, touching his Alfie, sodomizing his body. His heart cringed with each flick of a tongue; Ivan groaned as he thrusted deep into Alfred's arched body. Arthur dropped the lock of hair as his hand rose to the area over his heart, ripping his shirt as Alfred screamed out another's name. He could almost feel it; the primal desire in their voices aroused him, but made him want to die. His nails dug into his chest, he couldn't stand this; he would rather be blind and deaf. Arthur felt tears escape his emerald eyes as he picked the bowl up and sent it flying across the room. He could still hear them even after the bowl had crashed against concrete.

His heart felt as if it was being stabbed with sharp needles and he found his fingers digging into his flesh; he did not need this anymore.

* * *

Alfred jumped into the Russian's arms; he felt so alive, especially after the warm shower they'd just took. His arms and legs wrapped around Ivan as he stared into bright violet eyes. Ivan chuckled as Alfred stole a kiss, "Fredka, why aren't you tired?"

"I don't know man; I just have so much energy right now."

Ivan laid the excited American on the bed before lying down next to him. Alfred snuggled into his chest and listened to the beating heart; Russia's arms wrapped around him and held him close. Alfred was really enjoying this; he'd never imagined Russia making feel anything other than uncomfortable but this was great. That was, until there was a knock at the front door.

Alfred groaned, he was just getting settled in. "This happens every time," he mumbled.

"You don't have to answer it," Russia said, "It's your house."

"But what if it's important," he jumped out of bed, "be right back!" Alfred ran off leaving Russia to his thoughts.

Alfred stuttered in the open doorway, "E-England you look dead.

England did look dead; his emerald eyes had dulled and his skin was snow pale, even his lips had turned a light shade of blue. His hair was a stringy mess and his clothes were ruffled; in his hands he held a light green metal box. "I just came to say congratulations to the happy couple," he handed the box over to America, brushing his fingers slightly.

"Arthur you're cold, maybe you should come inside."

"No . . ." Russia came up behind the American and wrapped his arms around his waist; England could see he wasn't welcome. "Just open the box."

Alfred's ocean blue eyes looked down at the light green box, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was inside. "Well go on you bloody git, I didn't do this for my enjoyment." Ivan gave him a reassuring squeeze just to get it over with so Alfred held the box with one hand and unlatched it with the other. Alfred's eyes widened and he dropped the box; his hand reached out to Arthur's shirt slowly, his eyes watered with anticipation.

"England you . . . you didn't," his hand caught the end of the shirt and he closed his eyes as he pulled it up hesitantly. He felt Ivan loosen his grip and let go of him altogether, his breath hitched as he opened his eyes; England's smug face made it all the worse. He pulled away, hiding the hole in his chest; he bent over and picked the heart up under the box. He held it out to Alfred as blood dripped from his hand, "This will always belong to you Alfred."

Arthur grabbed Alfred's hand forcibly and placed the heart in his hand; England smile one last time and walked away without another word, getting in his car and driving off. Ivan took the heart away and threw it in the bush, "it didn't happen, nothing from the past matters anymore, it's just us."

Alfred turned around and smiled, "Promise me we'll kill him."

Ivan smiled just as sweetly, "Yes."

* * *

**You guys are probably going to kill me for this,but I'm ending the story here. A story without a plan can only go so far and I'm not sure how things would end if America and Russia tried to kill England.**

**So I gave you a scene with Russia and America, How was it?**

**I'm really sorry to end the story with a crap ending and I've been neglecting to update; sorry!**

**I promise I'm making a story that's going to be planned out, when will I post it? I don't know. The first chapter is ready to go and I promise you'll like it.**


End file.
